#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

In the very cold morning of the wetlands, I find this wonderful image in the brand new ice: a woman with a glass egg, instead of ribs and a heart in her chest, and she even has a belly button. and she is emerging out of a primordial pool of effervescence. Hello glass egg heart woman. Today was not a writing day. But it was a special day of time with Frank. We have coffee and a long talk, and he is home all morning and not busy, and I am not busy. Until my youngest and I go into the office to work on a photo project for my other daughter’s birthday coming soon. It’s a secret photo album. I am so glad when it is done and done well and ordered and on its way. In the late afternoon, Frank and I drive into the city to visit Bova’s bakery, our favorite, in the North End. As we approach Boston, I see the Prudential and all the sightlines: we pass Fenway Park and all that, and I say, as we head down the Mass. Pike, Remember when we used to go to the airport? To plays and concerts? We laugh. It has been a very very very long time. There’s no parking the North End, so I jump out of the car and go into Bova’s which is not very crowded. I do the same a the Thinking Cup, our favorite coffee, and he gets his Hazelnut latte. We have long conversations, imagining where we’ll be next winter, and we listen to music and it feels like a date. I have seen more people in 10 minutes on the streets of the North End than I have seen in months!